Read it and Weep
by FanGirlFreak16
Summary: What were either of them doing that early in the morning, Ike wondered? He tapped on their conversation to find a string of conversations that started roughly at around one in the morning. The conversation, oddly enough, was begun by Kyle. Kyle: I kind of had a question - 1:13 Eric: Shoot - 1:14 Kyle: What do u think it's like to die? - 1:16
1. Sincerely, Kyle Broflovski

I realized it when I was eleven.

The way his muscles moved when he flexed them; the way his jaw moved when he spoke; how he sounded when he laughed. It all made my heart start to palpitate inside of my chest, and it made butterflies kiss the lining of my stomach. I stared at him dreamily from underneath the cloth of my hat that had begun to fall into my eyes.

_So this must be what it feels like to be in love,_ I thought to myself.

I shook my head.

I froze.

No. I couldn't love someone of the same sex. I would be laughed at, and it would give Cartman more of a reason to pick on me, as if he didn't have enough. People would bully me, and what would my family think? Being gay was against God. It was wrong.

_I'm not gay,_ I told myself.

_I'm not gay._

I suppressed those feelings with minimal complication, and I quite honestly had forgotten about the realization of my sexuality until I hit the age of fourteen. Fourteen was when puberty hit me in a wide surge. Emotionally, physically, and sexually to narrow the surge down into a small variety. Acne dotted my face as if my face was a connect the dots worksheet that kindergartners would receive for homework.

I began to receive erections when the wind would blow just right, which was extremely embarrassing, but the embarrassment was reduced when I noticed it happening to a majority of teenage boys. They weren't too difficult to manage once you were alone, but hiding them was by far the most difficult task. After all, it isn't exactly normal to hold your backpack or sweatshirt right in front of your crotch. This wasn't exactly too much of an issue for a while. Yeah, it happened, but it happened to _all _of the boys.

It wasn't anything too major.

Until one day.

Stan had been sitting next to me at lunch, per usual since Wendy and him were broken up with yet again. It had been a Friday in the month of December and we had a week left of school before winter break which everyone was more than eager to get to. Eighth grade was kicking all of our asses, and we didn't expect our freshman experience to be any better.

Either way, I couldn't tell you what exactly had been the topic of conversation that day since our conversations tended to be fairly mindless and rather easily sidetracked unless it just so happened to be a rather serious event. However, something popped up within the conversation, perhaps the oncoming snow storm that was scheduled for that night, that made Stan groan.

"I forgot that my parents are going to be out of town tonight, and I don't want to be home alone with Shelly." He placed his head upon the cafeteria table in defeat at the thought of having to bear with his sister all night.

I took a bite of my sandwich and glanced around the table to notice that nobody aside from me was paying any heed to Stan's obvious suffering. Then again, hardly anyone in this cursed school noticed when someone was upset or troubled. "You could probably come stay at my house. Mom's out of town because Kyle had another hernia, and his mom needed help. Dad will be there for a little while, but he's going to leave around ten for work." I explained.

His head had shot up and his lips were lined with a smile of sheer gratitude. He had clasped his hands together as if he were praying. "Oh thank you, thank you, thank you! Shelly's having her boyfriend over tonight, and I really don't want to hear what activities they have in store." He punctuated his sentence with the sticking out of his tongue along with a sound that could only be described as gagging. I laughed and punched him lightly on the shoulder.

"No problem, man."

I would like to say that that day was as clear as crystal, but honestly only a few key points are. I couldn't tell you whether or not Cartman had some nefarious scheme planned for after school or in roughly a week, but the night that transpired after that day is clearer than distilled water. Stan had arrived at my house directly at 7:46 that night. We spent the next two and odd hours up in my room playing on my video game console until he rage quit because I kept beating him in Mario Kart. Once Stan needed a break from video games, we had both settled on timing ourselves to see who could build the most complex house out of Legos in ten minutes. Once mister sore loser finally won something the clock had read 9:30. That's when dad came into my room to bid us farewell for the night.

"Should anything happen, either call me or go to the Cartman residence if it's an emergency. I have money under the magnet on the fridge if you guys want to order pizza or something. And if you do, make sure you buy something that Ike likes, too. Kyle, make sure you have your insulin close by should you need it."

I rolled my eyes as I placed a Lego block on the ground. "Yes, Dad." He said he loved us before heading down the hall to Ike's room to give him his own list of instructions and rules before finally leaving the house. Once he was gone, Stan and I gave a brief glance at each other before shoving past one another to try and get down the stairs first. He punched his fist in the air in a moment of victory when he was the one who reigned victorious. I crossed my arms over my chest and huffed while my head was directed towards the ground.

"You only won because your legs are longer." He laughed with a roll of his eyes at this statement.

"Aw, jealous, are we?" He asked. I looked up to retaliate against him...

...but I froze.

His stance, facial expressions, hair placement, everything about him in that moment could only be described as one thing.

Perfect.

I could feel the blood rush to my cheeks while the palpitations of my heart increased in a manner that was anything but gradual.

His hand was placed upon the wall to support himself while his right leg crossed over his left. His usual signature hat had been strewn off long ago causing his long bangs to fall in his eyes. There wasn't too much hair to his bangs. Just the way his stylist had layered his hair caused a few strands to fall in front of his oceanic blue eyes. Despite just starting to hit puberty, the way his body was sculpted was absolutely flawless. My body melted at all of these realizations.

"Uh...dude?" His voice had snapped me out of the imagination I was having and made me stumble back.

"Huh? What?" I said quickly in attempts to recompose myself.

"Didn't you hear me and Ike? We should have a pizza delivered here," Stan stated with concerned looking eyes. "You kinda zoned out there." At the mention of Ike's name, I shot him a look confusion before I felt a tug on my shirt. The tug caused me to yelp in surprise along with an anything but graceful fall to the ground. Looking up at Stan who was still on two feet with concern in his eyes and now shock, I also saw Ike just a few feet away from me.

That explained the tug on my shirt.

"Dude, are you ok?" Stan asked carefully, hand reaching towards the railing of the stairs. "Do you need your insulin or something? I don't remember you eating anything that would cause you to act like this."

"No, no, no!" I was quick to respond. "I'm fine, I don't need that!" I got to my feet as quickly as possible, using the wall to help steady myself. "Just kinda zoned out," I stated sheepishly, "I'm ok, really."

Stan looked at me with suspicion in his eyes, but let the matter go, along with his grip on the railing.

The rest of that night went rather smoothly. We ordered a cheese and mushroom pizza, since Ike wasn't much of a fan of pepperoni or too many vegetables. We all ate pizza, joked around, and played random games. We had found the board game _Sorry _underneath the TV console in our search to find a new game after playing _Go Fish _with Ike. Stan and I had to explain the rules of _Sorry _to Ike, but he caught on pretty quickly as we knew he would.

He always was so smart.

Things took a turn for the worst while the came carried on. After Ike had won the first round, we all decided to play a second. It had been my turn, and I drew the infamous sorry card and looked over at Ike and Stan mischievously. Ike had paled and Stan had his fingers crossed. I grabbed my green chip from my start area and surveyed where everyone else's chip on the board was. Ike wasn't very close to my home and posed no serious threat; he had only one chip on the board. In contrast, Stan had been quite close to my home area and had two chips on the board. In a final decision, I took my chip and knocked Stan's clear off of the board to get the point across that his chip was out. He stared at me with his jaw open wide as I placed my chip on the space that his had previously been on.

"Why me?" He yelled in shock.

I laughed at him as I was Ike relax. "You're closer to my home than Ike is! And you have two pieces out already!" I explained, although I don't think he cared to much for my explanations. He playfully growled at me before pouncing on me from his previous stance, which had been on his knees. He had hopped from his knees across the board and right on to me, wrestling with me, demanding that I put his blue piece back on the space that I took from him. Of course, I refused and only wrestled back with him, much to Ike's hilarity. Ike cheered me on, telling me to not give in. Honestly, I believe he would have reveled in seeing Stan whoop my ass, but he didn't want me to send his pawn back to home.

Stan and I rolled around the floor, both struggling to be on top before he eventually reigned champion and pinned my hands above my head, pinning me to the ground. "Aha!" He cheered triumphantly. "I win! Now...what do ya say, Ky? How about you put my piece back where it was!"

I was about to retaliate his words, but before I could, his eyes captivated mine once more. They were sparkling, surely. His skin was so clear and snow white that I was truly enticed by his appearance. And at the realization of just how handsome he was, I suddenly grew aware of our certain stance.

He was pinning me to the ground, his hips straddling mine. Just like a man normally would when he was intimate with a woman.

These thoughts were all it took to cause a tent in my pants.

I immediately pushed him off of me and threw his coat at him. "Get out!" I yelled, hoping he wouldn't notice the issue I was having. Stan's giggling went silent at my yell, and Ike stood shocked at my outburst.

"Kyle, what's wrong?" He asked in a concerned tone as he tried to approach me.

"Just leave!" I screamed in response. I ran to the staircase and grabbed hold to the railing, my footsteps falling heavily on the stairs. Upon entering my room, I rubbed my face with my hands with a sense of hopelessness before grabbing Stan's bag and hat and running back down the stairs. There was no denying the feelings I was having for him. It was obvious to me that I was attracted to him, and this realization was enough to send my world crashing down. At the end of the steps, I threw his things at him. "Get out of my house!"

Stan was confused beyond all belief and concerned at the same time. I could tell by the look in his eyes. "Kyle, why are you crying?"

I hadn't even realized that I had been crying, but when he brought that fact to light my tears came down faster and faster. "Just leave already!" I yelled at him, my heart racing both due to the emotions he caused in me and the thoughts racing in my head of what my parents would do to me. "Get out!"

"Kyle, please, tell me what's wrong," Stan pleaded with me, stepping closer to me, hand outstretched while his other arm was occupied with all of his various items that I threw at him. "Did I do something wrong?"

My bottom lip was being bit my upper teeth as more tears cascaded down my face. God, I wanted to recompose myself and tell him exactly what I thought. Not so much about me liking him, but more so about me being gay. But then maybe he wouldn't want to be my friend anymore. Maybe he'd hate me. "Just go!" I yelled once more with the stomp of my foot.

We were all silent for a moment; Ike and Stan's silence caused by confusion and concern. "Alright then." Stan said slowly, placing his bag on the ground before slinging his coat onto his person and securing his hat on his head. He picked up his bag once more and put it on his shoulder before walking to the front door. He placed his hand on the brass knob before looking back at me over his shoulder. I was still a crying mess, and I could tell that he really didn't want to leave, especially with how heavily it was snowing. However, he opened the door anyhow and stepped out before closing the door behind him.

Once the door was shut, I fell into a sobbing heap on the ground, legs curled in to my chest and arms wrapped so tightly around my knees that nothing could budge them. I buried my wet face into my knees as my body started to rack with sobs. I only sat there for a few moments before I heard Ike crawl over to me and place a hand on my shoulder. He stayed silent for a moment, but he broke it. "You like Stan...don't you?"

I was taken aback by his question. So much so that my head snapped up immediately to gaze at him. How could he ask that in such a caring voice as if it wasn't a big deal? I was going to be condemned to Hell. I just gave a watery laugh. "Of course I like Stan. He's my best friend."

Ike shook his head and situated himself so that he was looking directly at me. "No, not like that. You love Stan."

I shook my head in a denial that I knew I wasn't going to win. Like I said, Ike always has been so damn smart. "I don't...I can't...I'm not..." But Ike knew. He always knew when something was up. He was just that observant and that smart.

He knew.

The thought made me sob even harder, and I gripped my pants tightly as I shook in embarrassment. How embarrassing is it for your big brother to be gay? That thought was almost immediately expelled as Ike wrapped his arms around my neck in a firm hug. His body fit onto my lap snugly for he was nine. His embrace was warm and comforting, and I longed for it more than I understood previously. If my parents found out, I doubted I would ever get hugs from them again.

"I love you." He said quietly into my ear.

I tightened my hold on him when he said those three words that I was terrified I would never hear again. "I love you, too."

It had been reassuring to know that my little brother thought no differently of me. Honestly, it gave me some kind of hope. For the rest of that night, Ike stayed with me in the living room, consoling me and telling me how everything would be alright, and that who I liked didn't define me as a person. I was still his overprotective, pain in the ass big brother. His words that night meant the world to me.

No more sleepovers.

Fast forward to freshman year and to my first homecoming. The two weeks prior to homecoming had been sweet enough; couples proposing to each other and gentle pecks on the lips when teachers weren't around to see the subtle PDA. At this point, I had come to terms with the fact that I was gay, however I was still closeted. The only person who knew about my homosexual feelings, as well as my crush on Stan, was Ike.

But I had planned to change that.

I was going to ask Stan to homecoming, even if it meant losing him. I wanted him to know my true feelings rather than keeping it a secret and suffering. It wasn't an extravagant proposal by any means. A simple enveloped letter along with a little bouquet of blue and red roses. The simplicity kind of made me gag, but I'd rather keep it rather small, especially if he rejected me.

I made sure to look extra nice that day and sprayed on just enough cologne. Ike had noticed all of my grooming and walked into my room with a smug look as he leaned against my door frame. "Looking sharp, Broflovski," He said with raised eyebrows. "Who's the lucky lady?"

I laughed and punched him on the shoulder. "Go to Hell, man."

Ike laughed in response before looking at me seriously. "Honestly, though, you've got this, Ky. I believe in you." He said with a sincere smile. With a hug and a thanks, we left the house and made our way to the bus stop. Of course, Kenny, Eric, and Stan were already waiting there, along with Karen since she was moving up in grades as well as Ike. When we got there, Stan whistled at me.

"Who are you asking to hoco? They must be fine cause you've gone way out of your way to look good." I could tell I was starting to blush, but thankfully it could be played off as the biting cold that South Park had to offer.

"You'll see." Was my response.

At the time, I didn't realize that that would be a lie. He never would see, and he never would know.

The moment I had planned to propose to him was the moment he had proposed to Wendy. Wendy fucking Testaburger. His on and off girlfriend since the third grade. It isn't that I hated Wendy because I didn't, not even now. It just hurt that he's still so willing to go with a girl who has shattered his heart more times than I can count.

I went home that night feeling dejected and absolutely heart broken, and homecoming night hadn't been any better.

Despite my protests, Kenny and Stan somehow had convinced me to attend the dance, even though I would be going alone. Aside from Cartman, I was the only one in our friend group who went alone. Of course, Stan was with Wendy, and Kenny was accompanied by Butters, his boyfriend of nearly eight months. For the most part, everything had gone off without a hitch. The DJ played popular, shitty mumble rap songs while students conversed over the loud music and crowded around the snack tables. Stan, Kenny, Cartman and I remained in a group for a majority of the beginning of the dance, playfully bickering back and forth, judging other students for their attire and normal behaviors, and just talking. I took in the scene, imagining it being just like when we were younger and there was nothing to worry about.

That fantasy, however, was shattered as the first slow song began to play.

Couples rushed towards each other in excitement and nervousness as they struggled to find a rhythmic dancing style that suited both dancers. This included Stan asking Wendy if _"he may have this dance" _as well as Butters becoming a heaping blushing mess when Kenny asked him to dance. Cartman and I stayed sat on the benches as we watched all of the other couples dance such as Tweek and Craig along with Token and Nichole. I couldn't detest that watching some of the couples was a cute experience. Especially with how Tweek was a blushing and jittery mess while Craig had almost no idea of what he was doing. Although, they didn't take up to much of my thoughts. No, the couple that preoccupied most of my thoughts was almost directly across from me on the complete other side of the gymnasium.

Stan and Wendy.

The way he looked longing and lovingly at her was a look that I was jealous over. The way he held her hips and how she wrapped her arms around his neck was a stance that I yearned for. The way their lips fell onto each other's was a feeling that I absolutely needed, but knew I would never obtain. Watching them dance to the slow song, one of my favorites at that, was complete torture. I felt the tears well up in my eyes before I had ran out of the gymnasium, looking for a place in the school that was anywhere but near them.

I didn't necessarily want to be alone, but I didn't want to be forced to watch my crush slow dance with someone who wasn't right for him. I'd much rather be at home venting to Ike about the transpiring events. But leaving wasn't too much of an option seeing as the snow was about calve deep outside and my mom would never agree to pick me up early, claiming that I still had the possibility of finding some cute lonely girl to ask to dance with me. So suffering alone in the cafeteria would have to suffice.

While in the cafeteria, I continuously thought of toxic thoughts as to why Stan shouldn't be with Wendy and why he should be with me. I thought of how I would end up homeless or disowned the moment I came out to my parents. However, maybe Ike could get them to tolerate it.

While lost in thought, I had failed to notice someone enter the cafeteria and sit across from me at the lunch table. "Want some company, Broflovski?"

The normally muffled voice came clear as crystal due to the disbanding of his orange parka for his sleek borrowed tux. I looked up to him, a few tear streaks clad on my face. "I'm fine." I answered blatantly.

He chuckled. "Yeah, and I can die." He said with sarcasm dripping from his words. Not understanding exactly what he meant, I rolled my eyes and placed my head on my arms on the table.

"Leave me alone, McCormick."

"Eh, not likely," He said, situating himself. "I know something's wrong, and I'm not heading back to the gym until you tell me what."

With a puzzled look, I raised my head from my arms. "But Butters will be expecting you to dance with him during the next slow dance. And maybe a few upbeat ones."

Kenny shrugged with a smug smirk. "Better make it quick then, huh?"

I rolled my eyes and moved so that my feet were resting on the seat next to mine. The way that the lunch tables were set up was in an oval like shape with connected seats to the table which made speaking to others quite easy. I rested my elbows on my knees with a sigh. "I'm just...jealous."

Kenny looked to me with confusion at first before smirking again and laughing. "Oh, I see! I noticed how you were looking at Stan and Wendy! You want to dance with Wendy, don't you! Can't say she's my type or even your's, but I'll admit, she does have a nice ass!" Kenny said as he brought his hand down on his knee, creating a loud slapping sound while he continued to laugh over his perverted statement. God, Butters hated when Kenny said anything perverted about someone who wasn't him. And even then, Butters had never been too comfortable with the pervertedness Kenny had to offer.

While Kenny believed his statement to be correct and awaited my confirmation on his assumption, I simply shook my head no with a dejected look. Upon my negative response, Kenny's hilarity melted down as he began to think harder on the situation. When it dawned on him, his face became sympathetic and understanding. "Oh, wait...you're not jealous of Stan being with Wendy...you're jealous of...Wendy being with Stan," He said slowly, blue eyes fixated on my green ones. With tears welling in my eyes, I slowly nodded in grief. He nodded slowly, thinking it all over in his head. Sure, Cartman had made plenty jokes before calling me a fag, but they never knew the truth behind Cartman's fire. "Kyle," He said softly, taking his hands into my own, "it's going to be ok, I promise you."

I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came out. Tears started to form in my eyes even more before they trailed down my cheeks. I shook my head as my lips moved in what looked like the formation of words, but no sound exited my throat. After a moment of the beginning of my break down, I was finally able to get a few words out. "No, it's not. Stan won't return my feelings. He's as straight as a line. Not only that, but my parents...they'd...they'll..." I couldn't finish my sentence, too horrified with ideas of what my parents could possibly do if and when I come out to them. My body shook at the thoughts of being kicked out and shunned for the rest of his life. Sure, my parents weren't the best by any means, but I could have it way worse. And on top of that, I could possibly not be allowed to see Ike anymore. I covered my mouth with my hand as sobs tore their way through my throat, and I clenched my eyes shut tight as tears cascaded down my face.

Kenny enveloped me in a hug and began rubbing circles on my back. "Sh," He shushed, "it's going to be ok, I promise. Your parents love you very much. Something as frivolous as your sexuality shouldn't matter. You're their son. Sh, everything's ok, sh. It was difficult for Butters to come out to his parents, too. And though things are tense, they could be worse. Trust me, Kyle, it will all be ok. Everything will work itself out."

Maybe they would have worked themselves out. Maybe my parents would have been ok with my sexuality. Maybe they would accept me and continue to love me despite me going against what the Torah tells them.

Whatever their response, I'll never know.

This decision took some time to go over. However, with the last beating I received at school the answer was pretty clear.

Maybe Tweek and Craig didn't and don't get beat up like I do since they have each other to protect them. The last person who said something to Tweek ended up with a broken arm and nose along with bruises all the way down his back and deep gashes. No one messed with Tweek unless they had some kind of death wish. The same applied for Craig, seeing as how Tweek's nails were always rather sharp due to his self destructive tendencies. When someone would say anything to Craig in a negative fashion, Tweek would be there, making sure his nails were visible to whomever was being rude to Craig. Typically, when their eyes landed on Tweek's stance, nails, and bared teeth, they backed off immediately.

I don't have that kind of security.

The whole school currently knows that I am a homosexual, and some people are rather supportive of me. However, many are against me.

Stan knows that I like guys, and he's fine with that. He doesn't know that he's the one that I like. It's nice to have his support along with Kenny's, Ike's, Craig's, Tweek's, and sometimes Cartman's. Honestly, since high school began, Cartman has become somewhat more considerate and has slowed down from his much more horrid days. He's been known to beat up a few people who have beaten me up for my sexuality, claiming that beating me up was his job.

As odd as it sounded, I was willing to accept any excuse if it meant some assortment of protection.

Although, I've begun to grow tired of running from shouting high school students who continue to charge at me, ready to get a good beating in on me or perhaps take me to the bathroom for a swirlie.

I'm sick of living in constant fear and feeling these disgusted stares on me as I walk by. If this is how life is going to go for the next how ever many years God has truly designated me, then this life isn't worth living.

Sorry, God, for cutting your plan short. It's time to take matters into my own hands.

Currently, everyone is either at school or work. Junior year has been very demanding, and it has proved that missing a single day of school could be detrimental to your grades in the long run, so I know that none of my friends have decided to skip, and I know that none of them are sick or else they would have said so in our group chat. Mom and Dad won't be home until about six due to work, and Ike won't be home for another six hours or so. As far as I'm aware, school has just began, for the clock on my phone says that it is eight. Mom, Dad, and Ike believe that I am home sick, and so does Kenny, Stan, Cartman, and a few select people from Craig and Tweek's friend group, including them.

No one suspects a thing.

It's the perfect time.

To whomever finds me, I apologize sincerely for the mess and horrifying sight you will walk in to see. To make the sight less horrific, I'll be in my closet. That way you'll be expecting to see my corpse since you have more than likely already seen the note. I'll lay this on my bedside table.

To Mom and Dad, I'm sorry it had to be like that...that I had to be like this. We all could have been the perfect family, couldn't we have been? But of course I had to go and fuck it up by being gay. I know I've never properly came out to either of you, but if you haven't figured it out by at least the middle of this letter, then I honestly don't know what to tell you. Maybe I should write _'I'm Gay' _in the center of this entire letter in bright highlighter. Ha, wouldn't that seem rather funny? I want my college funds and scholarships to go towards Ike. Save up for a big college for him of whatever college he chooses. He's extremely smart if you haven't noticed. It isn't very often that 12 year olds get to skip grades. Let Ike have first look around my room and let him have whatever he wants. After him, let Kenny, Stan, and Cartman have their picks. Nothing is off limits aside what Ike has already picked out. I'm sorry it had to be and end like this.

Ike, my baby brother, I'm so very sorry I did this. I know you say I'm strong, and I appreciate you more than you know. You've been there for me since the very beginning and have helped me so much. I'm sorry that I'm leaving you like this, but I have enough money in my bank account to get you through at least freshman year in some big league college. If you choose to not go to some big league college, then that's ok, and you'll have even more money to get you through college. No matter what happens, I'm begging you to never ever take the route I am and have. Maybe I'm a hypocrite when I say it isn't worth it, but for you it isn't worth it. You have so much to look forward to you. The entire world is at your feet, waiting for you to take over. You're going to get an excellent job that you love, and people are going to love you from all around the world. You're going to do excellent things, Ike. I know you will. I love you so much.

Kenny, thanks for being there for me. Throughout all of this Hell, you are the friend that's stuck by me the most. You were the first one out of our friend group to know, and you've always shooed off others who have tried to start fights because of me. There's been more than one occasion where you've thrown others off of me while blood dribbled down my face before you pummeled the people who had hurt me until their blood was dripping down your fists. I couldn't ask for a better friend than you. I'm leaving you with a sum of money from the bank account. I've set an account up for you and transferred some money over. I can't remember how much, but it should be enough to care for yourself and Karen for at least six years. I love you, man.

Stan, I'm sorry if I made you feel guilty or disgusted in anyway. I'm just sick of feeling this way and living with unrequited love as well as the possibility of dis-ownership from my parents. I hope you and Wendy have a good life and a good relationship. Remember when we were kids and we said that when we got married, we'd name our sons after each other? Those were the good days. Where we hadn't a care in the world other than being called into the house to go to bed. I miss those days. I'd give anything to go back. I'm sorry I didn't tell you about my feelings sooner. I just didn't want to lose you as a friend. I still don't. I hope once you finish reading this letter that you don't hate me or think of me as a freak. But if you do think of me like that, I don't blame you. I love you, Stan. So much. And I always will.

Eric, feels weird writing Eric instead of Cartman. It might seem weird to read, too. I'm assuming you'll be reading this in my voice, anyway. All of you. Either way, I don't know what has become of you and why you've been so kind to me recently, but I appreciate it. Well, maybe saying kind is a bit of a stretch. You're sill somewhat rude, but you're not nearly as much of an asshole as you used to be. Maybe it's your medication, of maybe you're just growing up. Whatever the reason, I don't want you to think of me any differently. I still want you to think of me as the same greedy, ginger jew that you've always seen me as. At the most, I'd like you to think of me as a friend. Thanks for chasing away the boys who were beating my head into the bricks of the school's exterior. Had it not been for you, I might have died sooner. Thanks for the long night conversations that are nothing but randomness. Sometimes they can be a bit insightful. Truly, you've grown so much from when you were younger. Don't skip out on your medication, man. I want to tell you I love you, but that isn't normal for us. So shove it up your ass, Cartman.

I'm sorry to everyone I've ever wronged and especially to who finds me. I hope life goes on for all of you in a positive manner. I love all of you guys so much. Thanks for the amazing memories.

Sincerely,

Kyle Broflovski

* * *

**A/N: This story will feature one more chapter.**


	2. Mors Certa, Hora Incerta

Ike Broflovski walked home to school that day, seeing as how the day was rather beautiful. Birds chirped and the sun shined brilliantly down onto the concrete. Everything seemed to be going well that day. Since he was moved up a grade, he was able to be in the same grade as Kenny McCormick's sister, Karen. He had finally worked up the nerves to ask her to the middle school dance, to which she happily responded with a yes. He was more than ecstatic to tell Kyle, who was certainly rooting for him.

On that note, he wondered if Kyle had begun to feel better at all since he stayed home from school on account of feeling unwell.

Upon walking up the front steps, Ike entered the house with a yell of "I'm home!". He kicked his shoes off by the front door before placing them next to each other on the wall next to the door. As he started to place the shoes on the ground, he looked around the living room. Nothing seemed to be out of place. Almost as if no one had touched a single thing. The remote was still in the same place it had been left that morning, and no dirtied dishes had been added to the sink.

Deciding to ignore the minute detail for the moment, Ike began to walk up the stairs to his room that was directly across from Kyle's. Ike noticed that Kyle's door had been shut, which wasn't too alarming. Should Kyle truthfully be feeling unwell, he may have slept the entire day away. Shrugging, Ike walked into his own room, taking in the neat scenery. He was never one to strew his possessions about. Everything had a specific place and being organized gave him a sense of control over life. Some people may believe that he had OCD, however that wasn't the case. In all honesty, Ike was just a genuinely organized individual.

Ike set his backpack on the small wrack he had hanging on his door before shedding his heavy coat and placing it alongside his backpack.

Looking back at Kyle's door, Ike felt a weird sensation he couldn't quite pinpoint. Maybe a sense of nervousness? Although, he tried to bury these emotions and called himself foolish for being so worked up. However, there was just this feeling he couldn't seem to shake. _I'm just going to check on him,_ Ike told himself as he made his way towards Kyle's door. Before entering, he gave a soft yet audible knock. When he was met without a reply, he opened the door himself, appalled to see his brother not in his bed. Ike entered further into the bedroom, eyes darting about frantically. There was no reason for Kyle to not be in here.

In a sprint, Ike ran to the bathroom, which happened to be open. This offered no comfort in his search. In attempts to not leave a single area unsearched, he pulled the shower curtain back to see if his brother perhaps went to take a bath and forgot to close the bathroom door. Had this been the case, they would have dealt with the more embarrassing feelings later. In the meantime, though, Ike needed to find out just where Kyle was.

Ike left the bathroom, hands shaking. Kyle wouldn't have left the house, and even if he had, his car was still in the driveway, so the likelihood of him leaving the house wasn't very likely. Even though there seemed to be no logical reason for Kyle to be in their parents' room, it didn't hurt to look. Ike carried his trek to their parents' room which was just down the hall from their rooms. Upon opening the door, Ike was met with the familiar walls and neatness of his parents' room. Nothing had been touched, the bed was still neatly made. There was no way Kyle could be in there.

This left Ike completely at square one once more.

He returned to Kyle's room, checking to see if there was anything he had possibly missed. Maybe Kyle had really been underneath his covers and he just hadn't noticed because his covers were thrown about his bed rather sloppily, in contradiction to the rest of the family's rooms. Ike ran to his brother's bed, quickly tossing the cover to the ground, only to reveal nothing but an empty bed. Ike was struck with a fearful confusion. Kyle wouldn't have left without saying anything. He would have at least left him a text message explaining his whereabouts. Ike knew that Kyle hadn't sent him a text or else he would have heard a notification.

Speaking of which, a loud ding sounded out through Kyle's room, causing Ike to look at Kyle's bedside table. There was Kyle's phone, next to a piece of paper that Ike assumed was a page of homework. Ike looked at his brother's _iPhone_ that was encased in a green and black case. He debated looking at his phone to see if someone had sent him a message and if that would give him any clues as to where he was. Ike cringed at the thought, knowing that that was a violation of privacy, however, a part of him didn't care. He just needed to make sure that his brother was ok. With shaky hands, Ike picked up the phone, disregarding the paper as he quickly pressed the home button, revealing Kyle's lock screen which was a picture of Ike and Kyle when they went out of town to a museum together. Ike quickly input his brother's password and was greeted with a window that Kyle had never bothered to close. It was his _Instagram _DMs. The most recent message that Ike could tell was from Eric to Kyle at three in the morning.

_What were either of them doing that early in the morning, _Ike wondered? He tapped on their conversation to find a string of conversations that started roughly at around one in the morning. The conversation, oddly enough, was begun by Kyle.

_Kyle: R u awake? - 1:07_

_Eric: Yeah why? - 1:10_

_Kyle: I'm up too - 1:10_

_Eric: I got that much - 1:12_

_Kyle: Yeah I guess - 1:12_

_Eric: Why did u really txt me? - 1:12_

_Kyle: I kind of had a question - 1:13_

_Eric: Shoot - 1:14_

_Kyle: What do u think it's like to die? - 1:16_

_Eric: Don't really know. Haven't done it before - 1:16_

_Eric: Why r u wondering about that? - 1:16_

_Kyle: Just thinking - 1:16_

_Eric: About...? - 1:17_

_Kyle: Stuff - 1:19_

_Eric: What kind of stuff? - 1:21_

_Kyle: Doesn't matter - 1:22_

_Eric: In Kyle language and almost every girl language ever that means that it does matter - 1:22_

_Kyle: Right, and u have so much experience with girls :) - 1:23_

_Eric: Ey I have more than u :( - 1:24_

_Kyle: I'm gay - 1:24_

_Eric: Exactly - 1:25_

_Kyle: Why did u starve urself sophomore year? - 1:45_

_Eric: I didn't starve myself - 1:45_

_Kyle: Yes u did - 1:45_

_Kyle: U were just a few steps away from heart failure - 1:45_

_Eric: Doesn't matter - 1:47_

_Kyle: Lol now ur talking like a girl - 1:47_

_Eric: Shut up Jew - 1:48_

_Eric: Kids at school and schizophrenia was making my weight more apparent to myself - 1:50_

_Eric: I was constantly called fatass at school - 1:50_

_Eric: And the things I was seeing like that little cherub thing would ridicule my weight - 1:51_

_Eric: So it just kinda came naturally - 1:52_

_Kyle: Did u want to die - 1:53_

_Eric: Not particularly - 1:54_

_Eric: What kind of questions are these? - 1:54_

_Kyle: The kind u get when ur sleep deprived at nearly 2 in the morning :P - 1:55_

_Eric: I don't like these questions - 1:56_

_Kyle: Have u been taking ur meds? - 2:01_

_Eric: Why r u mother henning me? - 2:03_

_Eric: It's not like it matters too much - 2:03_

_Eric: Why do u care so much? - 2:03_

_Kyle: It's not so much that - 2:05_

_Eric: Then what is it? - 2:10_

_Kyle: Nosiness - 2:10_

_Eric: Well keep ur nose out of my business fag - 2:11_

_Kyle: Funny - 2:12_

_Kyle: U seem to see red when others call me that - 2:12_

_Eric: Cause it's my job to make fun of u - 2:14_

_Kyle: Lol - 2:16_

_Kyle: Have u ever thought about dying - 2:20_

_Eric: I mean who hasn't - 2:22_

_Eric: Why? - 2:22_

_Kyle: What do u think it's like? - 2:25_

_Kyle: Bright light? No light? - 2:26_

_Kyle: Angels singing? Fire blazing? - 2:26_

_Kyle: Pain or bliss? - 2:26_

_Eric: Idk - 2:27_

_Eric: While in the hospital it felt like things were constantly under water - 2:28_

_Eric: It sounded muffled - 2:28_

_Eric: Everything ached - 2:28_

_Eric: And I was so tired - 2:29_

_Eric: But I was close to death, not dead - 2:30_

_Kyle: Ah - 2:34_

_Eric: Why r u so interested? - 2:34_

_Kyle: Just wondering - 2:34_

_Kyle: Beautiful 2 in the morning random thoughts - 2:34_

_Eric: Alright if ur sure - 2:35_

_Kyle: Yeah I'm sure - 2:36_

_Kyle: Wyd? - 2:40_

_Eric: Txting u - 2:41_

_Eric: Sitting on the roof - 2:42_

_Kyle: I'm sure it looks nice out there doesn't it - 2:43_

_Eric: Yeah - 2:43_

_Eric: It's cold as fuck out here tho - 2:50_

_Eric: Kyle? - 2:55_

_Eric: I saw ur txt on the gc about u feeling sick - 2:55_

_Eric: U sure that's why ur staying home? - 2:55_

_Eric: Kyle? - 3:00_

_Seen_

And that concluded the unfinished text strand that left Eric on read.

Ike was shaking by the end of the strand. These weren't normal teenage thoughts. Normal teenage thoughts were tips on how to get laid, or how to flirt, or hanging out and getting pizza; not what death feels like. Ike tossed the phone on the bed, heart racing with dread. _Kyle's smart,_ he thought. _He wouldn't do anything like that, he wouldn't leave me_.

But the proof of the exact opposite was sitting right on Kyle's bedside table.

On discovery that the assumed homework was in fact a rather lengthy note, Ike's trembling hands reached for the piece of paper that he hoped wasn't a suicide note. The beginning seemed fine. It started off as a simple story retelling his brother's realization of his sexuality along with his coming out to Ike and Kenny. Nothing too scary. However, that all changed once he reached the near end. Upon finishing the letter, the paper fell from his hand as he flung himself at the closet door, tears streaming down his face, sobs tearing from his throat. "Kyle!" He screamed, as his shaky hands fumbled with the door knob. "Kyle, Kyle, Kyle, don't do this! Don't tell me I'm too late!"

When Ike's grip was tight and stable enough to grab the door knob, he flung the door open only to cover his mouth and close his eyes as his face heated up, tears running down his face faster than a track runner would run a race. With a heaving sob, Ike fell to his knees at the sight he was met with.

His big brother, his comforter, the one he confided in, the one who still let him sleep with him after a nightmare, was lying there, undoubtedly dead. Pools of blood surrounded the 17 year old, having all flown from his wrists. The wounds were still fresh and completely split open, but they had long since stopped bleeding. If Kyle's letter was true, Kyle had been lying like this for roughly six to seven hours.

Way too long to bleed without being patched up.

Ike's hands fell from his mouth and landed to hug his midriff as his shoulders shook with sobs that racked the entirety of his body. With barely any strength, Ike crawled over to his big brother, with a hope that was far fetched that he may still be alive. Without thinking much of it, his knee found a spot in one of the puddles of blood that surrounded his brother. Despite the life liquid typically being warm, these puddles were chilling to the bone. If one weren't looking at Kyle's wrists, it would appear that he was just sleeping, for his complexion was rather pale to begin with. His red, curly hair was spread lying softly against his forehead, his typical ushanka hat not covering his head. Ike saw no rise and fall of Kyle's chest, for it was still. Ike was far too scared to check for a pulse on his completely tore up wrists, so he settled for shakily placing his index and middle finger on the crook of Kyle's neck.

As expected, no heart beat was found.

With this observation, Ike began the silent sob that was drawn out, mouth wide open in despair and eyes shut tightly with cascading tears running down his face and falling onto Kyle's shirt. Ike threw his head down onto Kyle's chest, hands balling into fists as he began to punch his brother's stomach and chest in a painfully slow motion. It was barely enough force to move Kyle's body.

And with a single breath, Ike threw his head back and let out the most God awful bloodcurdling sobbed out scream that South Park had ever heard.


End file.
